


and we will never be afraid again

by argenttmccall



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events (TV), A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket, James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Klaus Baudelaire is Q, M/M, Season/Series 03 Spoilers, Slow Burn, meets the wackiness and surrealism that is asoue, so basically:, think the action and adventure that is a bond movie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2019-06-11 02:28:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15305430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/argenttmccall/pseuds/argenttmccall
Summary: once upon a time, Klaus Baudelaire had made the very simple mistake of assuming that his past would wither and fade away from the moment he stepped into the role and identity of Quartermaster.and of course, it doesn't. and before he knows it, Q is suddenly thrust into his previous life as Klaus Baudelaire, Orphan. except this time, he has the power of MI6 behind him. and one James Bond, of course, who doesn't know the meaning of the term 'mind your own business'.





	1. Chapter 1

“I brought you a souvenir, Q,” Bond says as his way of announcing his presence in Q’s office. Q’s back is to him, and does not react other than to hide a small, fond smile.

Bond has recently made a habit of bringing Q small souvenirs from his missions, should he think them interesting enough. So far, Q has amassed a small collection of trinkets of which include: a wooden flute given to Bond from a tribal leader in Africa, a colorful feather from an exotic bird in South America, and a small (slightly blood stained) scroll in an unknown language that Bond had snagged from a collection belonging to one of his many targets. Q and Bond have an unspoken agreement to not make a Big Deal out of the small gifts, but nevertheless, Q can’t help but wonder about their significance (usually when he’s home alone, in the dead of night).

“It wouldn’t happen to include the cufflinks I gave you, would it,” Q says dryly, leaning back to sit on the edge of his desk and stare at his wall of screens. He can sense Bond moving around the office, the faint scent of his cologne following him wherever he goes.

“In all honesty, they weren't your best work, Q,” Bond says lightly, and Q rolls his eyes.

“Those cufflinks had the ability to download information from computer systems and transmit them here, as was the point of your mission.”

“Well it's not my fault the computer’s owner decided to shoot at me,” Bond says glibly, and Q can see him now out of the corner of his eye. “It was either save the cufflinks or save myself. So I made an executive decision.”

Bond leans casually against the wall of screens, wearing a dark pinstriped suit. Q can’t help the faint rise of heat in his cheeks, or the faint smirk that graces his lips. Bond wears a dark sensuality like a second skin, an aura that draws one in like a magnet. Q is self aware enough to admit (to himself) that he is attracted to Bond; he and just about everyone else in MI6. It’s not something that would ever come to fruition, and yet Q can’t help but play along with Bond’s light flirtations, something that Bond seems to not even know he does.

“Your executive decisions worry me, especially when my devices are involved,” Q says, finally allowing himself to look away from the wall of screens and face Bond fully.

“I did say I brought you a souvenir. Consider it an apology gift,” Bond smirks at him, and Q smirks back. Had one told Q a year ago that he would be comfortable enough with 007, who is arguably the deadliest agent in the Double-0 programme, to flirt and engage in playful banter with him....well. It would have been a laughable idea. And yet here they are.

“It had better be a bloody great gift,” Q drawls as he holds out his hand. Bond merely smiles as he slowly pulls something out of his jacket. Q’s smirk morphs into a confused smile as Bond finally deposits the object into his hands. It’s wrapped in a handkerchief, probably belonging to Bond.

“My target for this mission seemed to think this was worth a great deal. I honestly don’t see what it could possibly be, but it seemed interesting enough to bring back. Maybe you can figure out what it does,” Bond shrugs, before wandering off to explore Q’s office. Q pays him no mind, he’s grown used to him wandering around at odd times.

He’s far more interested in whatever it is that’s in the handkerchief. Slowly, he unwraps the handkerchief to reveal a dull, golden cylinder with intricate patterns. It takes him a minute, but when he finally recognizes exactly what it is he’s holding, Q’s stomach drops.

Suddenly, he isn’t the 29-year old Quartermaster, head of Q Branch of MI6. He is 12-year old Klaus Baudelaire, newly orphaned and standing in the burnt wreckage of the Baudelaire Mansion. He’s holding the half of the destroyed VFD spyglass he’d found in remains of the mansion, used by his parents and other VFD members, to decode messages hidden in certain movie productions.

“Where did you find this?” Klaus asks hoarsely, and Bond looks over at him with slight concern.

“Are you alright, Q?” Bond asks him, and Klaus realizes he’s on the verge of hyperventilating.

“I’m f-fine. Where did you find this?” he asks again, sitting down slowly at his desk and setting the part of the spyglass gently on his desk. Bond frowns at him, coming over to peer at him.

“I told you, my target had it.”

“Who was your target?” Klaus asks, trying and failing to slow his pounding heart. He frantically casts his mind back to try and remember the details from Bond’s last mission.

“An odd man,” Bond furrows his brow thoughtfully. “We still don’t know his name, he’s been careful about hiding his identity. My mission was just to retrieve information about a possible new organization that M’s become worried about.”

Bond stops then, hesitation creeping into his features.

“What? What is it?” Klaus asks, somewhat harshly. Bond seems taken aback by his complete change in attitude, but honestly Klaus is past the point of caring. There’s only one person that Bond could have taken this from...but it’s impossible! It has to be!

“Well...the computer’s owner, the one I mentioned earlier. His appearance is what struck me as odd in the first place.”

Klaus can feel his mouth go dry. “W-what did he look like?”

“Q, are you unwell? What’s going on with you?” Bond asks intently, bending down to peer into his eyes. Klaus knows he must look as panicked as he feels, and tries to take a couple of breaths to calm himself down. It’s hard, though, when all that repressed fear and anxiety comes bubbling back to the surface all at once. Klaus had thought he’d gotten over all of it, but apparently not.

“Please just answer the question. What did your target look like?” Klaus asks desperately. Bond searches Q’s face intently before answering in a low voice.

“He was tall, with white hair. He was a filthy man, very unkempt and with poor hygiene. And...I noticed that he had a rather strange tattoo on his ankle,” Bond says with a frown. Klaus can feel the blood draining from his face.

“The tattoo...was it an eye?” he can barely bring himself to whisper. Bond’s eyes widen in alarm.

“How did you know that?” Bond asks sharply. Klaus’s world seems to tilt sideways, and it’s an actual miracle that he manages to stay upright.

“Q. What is going on?” Bond asks again, giving his shoulders a shake. It helps to bring Klaus back to reality, just a bit. He has to remind himself rather forcefully that he is not in any immediate danger, and to quell the fight or flight reaction at the mention of... _him_.

“I-I can’t explain right now, Bond,” Klaus says, standing abruptly. He turns and looks out to survey the rest of Q branch, _his_ Q branch studiously working away at various projects.

 _You are not Klaus right now, you cannot be Klaus right now. You are the Quartermaster. You are Q,_ he tells himself.

Bond is still standing next to him, silently watching. Finally, Q turns to face Bond once more.

“I...owe you an explanation. But not now, I’m afraid; I must go see M,” Q says, once he is back in control of himself. Bond frowns unhappily, but doesn’t object.

“Tonight, then? I’ll stop by your place,” Bond says, and it takes Q a minute to realize what Bond has just said.

“Oh! Ah, yes, of course. Wait, you know where I live?” he asks suspiciously, forgetting for a moment about his panic.

Bond scoffs. “Of course I know where you live, Q. Go, then, talk to M. I’ll see you later.”

Bond leaves, and Q takes a deep breath. He is in control of himself once more, but barely. With shaky hands, he quickly pulls out his personal laptop from a desk drawer. With his own laptop, Q has access to several legal and not-so-legal databases from various government agencies. It takes but a moment to pull up the one he wants and to input two different search inquiries. He memorizes the information he pulls up and switches to get access to different cctv and security feeds from two separate parts of the world.

Q realizes he’s holding his breath again, but he can’t help it. He just _has to know_. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he finds them.

“Thank god,” Q breathes out as he stares at footage of his sisters.

Violet is at work right now, and with an aching heart Q watches her expertly wield a blowtorch as she fuses two parts of whatever it is that she’s working on. With relief, Q can see that she is surrounded by other people in her laboratory, also working on various projects. When Violet had finally been granted access to the Baudelaire fortune, she had split it into three equal shares, one for each. It hadn’t taken her long after that to start her own business developing cutting edge machinery for the medical research field. As Q watches her now she seems well, and unharmed, which is all that he could ever ask for.

He switches his attention to his baby sister now. Sunny, meanwhile, is revered as a rising talent in the culinary world. At 18, she is the youngest ever to gain employment at a Michelin starred restaurant. The security feed that Q is using does not have an audio feed, but he can see her talking animatedly to the others around her while she works, smiling and laughing occasionally. In his quieter moments, Q thanks whatever deity exists that out of all of them, Sunny was the least affected by their childhood traumas. She remembers some of what transpired, but not all. He’s always admired her for continuing to have a, well... _sunny_ outlook on life even after everything they’ve endured.

Now that Q’s fears over his sisters has been assuaged for the time being, his concentration goes back to the part of the spyglass sitting on his desk. There’s not a chance in hell that any of this is a coincidence; that James Bond would just happen to bring him back a relic from his insane childhood along with a description of a man who should be long dead. Q just doesn’t understand the why or the how of it. He sighs one last time before picking the spyglass up and putting it in his pocket. He shuts down the laptop and puts it away before straightening his clothes. Q sends up a quick text message to Moneypenny to have her inform M of of his arrival. He isn’t really looking forward to that conversation, but it is necessary, and also happens to be a stipulation of his contract that he’d demanded when he’d signed on to MI6 with the previous M, god rest her soul.

Q takes one last moment to feel regret over having to bring back his childhood, and everything that had transpired. He hopes dearly that he won’t have to drag Violet or Sunny back into it, but knowing his luck he shouldn’t really get his hopes up.


	2. Chapter 2

“It’s open,” Q calls out when Bond finally knocks on his door, later that evening. “I’m in the kitchen.”

“As if I know where that is,” Bond calls out sarcastically, nevertheless finding Q right away. Q levels an unimpressed look at him.

“So you don’t have my building’s blueprints memorized? I’m disappointed.”

“I’m more disappointed in you for not checking to see who was at the door. I could have been an enemy, Q,” Bond says with a frown, and Q rolls his eyes at him.

“My surveillance system extends to the whole block, I knew it was you,” Q says primly, and at Bond’s arched eyebrow, adds, “My paranoia knows no bounds.”

“Apparently,” Bond huffs, but he’s more relaxed now, Q can tell. “Nice place you have.”

“Thank you,” Q says with a small smile. He’s very proud of his home, what with all the time and effort he’s put into it. When he’d bought the apartment building, it had been on the verge of being condemned. Q had had to invest a fairly large portion of his fortune into renovation and remodeling, but it paid off in the end. Now, he rents out the lower level apartments, and had the entire top floor converted into his living space.

“Come along, I’ll give you the grand tour,” Q says with a smirk, and Bond huffs a small laugh, but still follows dutifully.

The kitchen is all sleek chrome finishings and the best state of the art kitchen appliances; courtesy of Sunny. To be honest, Q had kind of let Sunny take the reins in designing his kitchen, as that was not his area of expertise. And it had been pretty funny to watch tiny, 14-year old Sunny with her hands on her hips, arguing with Q’s contractors about what had to go where. Sunny inherited their mother’s fire and spirit in spades, and she never backs down from a fight.

His own bedroom suite is the biggest, obviously, but he also had three separate suites made and designed for Violet and her family, and Sunny, and sometimes, Beatrice. Beatrice lives with Violet and Quigley and their children in Montreal, but she does like to spend some summers with Q in London.

His home office was designed entirely by Violet. Once she caught on that Q had seriously intended to give himself a literal wall of computer screens, she had graciously but firmly taken over the project. And Q has to admit, in the long run, he prefers what she did with the space. Whereas his office at Q Branch is all glass and sterile and cold, his home office is the exact opposite. With solid wood furnishings, warm hues, comfortable armchairs, bookshelves filled to the top with books of all kinds, it had been obvious that Violet had designed the space with their father’s old study in mind. Of course, she had still given him his computer screens. (They had ended up compromising with four computer screens, instead of the ten or so that Q had initially had in mind.) They were set into the wall discreetly across the room from his desk, large enough that Q wouldn’t have any trouble viewing them from across the room. When he’d taken his first look at the completed office, Q had pulled Violet into a tight hug, whispering his thanks into her ear around the lump in his throat.

When he’s not sleeping, or working on a project in his office, Q spends the majority of his time in his living room, which is where he and Bond end up in. There are even more bookshelves, of course, and far too many books overflowing from the shelves. He’s got a TV, and one of the biggest and comfiest couches that Q has ever had the pleasure of owning. Oh, and of course…

“Bond, meet Olivia and Jacques,” Q says with a grin, gesturing to his two cats. Olivia barely looks up from her comfortable place on her bed, while Jacques meows from his perch on the top shelf of one of the bookshelves. _How exactly_ Jacques manages to do that, Q has yet to figure it out. Bond blinks at the cats, before shaking his head with a small grin of his own on his face.

The two men settle into Q’s couch, and for the first time Q notices…

“You’re not wearing a suit.”

Bond raises an eyebrow at him, and Q can’t help but flush slightly. Just because he left the suit at home, doesn’t mean that Bond isn’t as good looking as usual. Tonight, he’s sporting a casual white button up (with the traitorous first two buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up, damn you Bond, Q thinks miserably) and finely tailored charcoal trousers.

“Keen observation, Quartermaster.”

“Shut it,” Q grumbles. “You always wear a suit.”

“Because when we see each other, I’m always working,” Bond points out, and yes, well, point. “And besides, you’re not wearing your ridiculous sweater vests. Honestly, Q, some days I think my dead grandfather has better style than you.”

Q rolls his eyes at Bond; as for himself, he’d just opted for a grey cotton henley and his favourite pair of black jeans.

“You know, I was going to offer you a drink, but I’ve changed my mind,” Q says snidely. “You get nothing.”

“How will I go on,” Bond deadpans, and Q _barely_ manages to bite back an involuntary smile.

He acts like he’s vaguely annoyed at Bond, but the truth is, Q is grateful for their usual banter. It’s helping settle any nerves he has about the topic of discussion for the evening. Speaking of which…

Q can’t help but turn his gaze to his coffee table, and Bond follows suit. There, lying innocently like it hasn’t turned Q’s world upside down, is the spyglass.

“Did you speak with M?” Bond asks quietly, and Q only nods. Now _that_ conversation had basically gone exactly like Q had thought it would.

“It took me about an hour to tell M my story, and another half hour to convince him I wasn’t crazy, and then _another half hour_ to convince him...well.”

“Convince him of what?” Bond asks with a raised brow, and Q can’t help but turn a little red.

“Convince him to give us a mission?” Q says a little helplessly, and Bond’s eyebrow raises _even higher_.

“I think you should start from the beginning, Q.”

Q sighs. “Before I do, fair warning, you might not believe me.”

“Q,” Bind says with a serious look in his eye. “I’ll believe you.”

_Oh_. Well then. Q blinks in surprise, resolutely ignoring his heart beating faster.

So Q tells Bond his story.

Well, not _all_ of it. It’s more the Cliff Notes version of his childhood. Q more or less skims over the more...miserable parts of it, not wanting to open _that_ box of issues.

But, he tells Bond about Count Olaf and the abuses he and his sisters went through under his ‘care’; about Uncle Monty and Josephine, and how even now Q still feels a pang of regret over not being able to save them; about the Quagmire triplets, and how they were the only saving grace during that point in their lives; about his cats’ namesakes, Jacques Snicket and Olivia Caliban, and how they were some of the bravest people that Q has ever met.

“I swear, there were too many times when it felt like we were cursed,” Q murmurs hoarsely. He’s been talking non-stop for over an hour now, and his throat hurts. But now that he’s started talking about it, he can’t bring himself to stop. All the misery that he repressed and shoved into a deep dark corner of his mind comes bubbling back up to the surface, and it’s all Q can do to keep hold of his sanity.

“Drink some water, Q,” Bond says quietly, and Q looks up at him with surprise at the glass of water that Bond is holding out for him. He hadn’t noticed when Bond had left the room, but no surprise there, he’s a Double-0, after all.

“Thank you,” Q says gratefully, drinking down the water as Bond settles himself back on Q’s couch.

“So, whatever happened to this _Count Olaf_?” Bond asks smoothly, but Q knows that tone of voice of his. That’s Bond’s ‘Give Me a Gun and Point Me In The Right Direction’ voice, and Q can’t help but smile bitterly.

“He’s dead,” Q says shortly, and snorts at the quick flash of disappointment in Bond’s eyes.

“You’re certain of that?”

“We buried his body ourselves,” Q says quietly, and Bond sighs but nods.

“Right. Well, firstly,” Bond begins, leaning forward to catch Q’s gaze and hold it. “You must know that the system failed you and your family, Q, and I’m sorry for that.”

Bond’s usually ice cold eyes are now full of empathy, and Q sucks in a small breath, as he remembers that Bond is an orphan as well. Q gives him a jerky nod before ducking his head again, unable to keep tears from springing to his eyes. It’s been a _very_ long time since anyone outside of the Baudelaire/Quagmire family has acknowledged that what he and his siblings went through was wrong.

Bond very kindly gives Q a minute to regain his composure, and when Q looks up again he sees that Olivia has migrated from her bed to Bond’s lap. Q chuckles quietly as he watches Bond scratch her behind her ears, and Bond flashes him a quick smile.

“You’re always a hit with the ladies, aren’t you?”

“So I’ve been told,” Bond says casually, as Olivia gives Bond’s hand one final, careful lick before she bounds off, with Jacques following closely behind her.

“So?” Q asks after a moment. “What was the second point you were going to make?”

“Hm? Ah. Secondly…,” Bond says, before giving Q a wicked smirk. “What’s our mission?”

“Ah. Of course you’d be excited about that,” Q says with a fond smile.

“It _has_ been a while since I’ve had a good mission.”

“You _just_ got back from a mission _yesterday_.”

“Well, it wasn’t that exciting, now was it?”

“You told me that you were shot at,” Q says with a flat stare at Bond, and the other man just shrugs slightly. It’s at moments such as this that Q isn’t quite sure if Bond has a serious death wish or not.

“Honestly, you worry me sometimes,” Q mutters, and instantly regrets it when Bond turns an interested look at him, a small smile playing at his lips. Q can feel himself flush as he rolls his eyes. Q isn’t quite ready to deal with whatever ‘feelings’ he may or may not have for Bond, especially now that they’re getting ready to dive headlong into whatever past demon has resurfaced.

Just the thought about having to face his past again sobers Q up quickly, and he can see Bond straighten up, waiting to hear what Q has planned.

“I think you and I both know that...everything about your most recent mission was not a coincidence,” Q begins slowly.

“Agreed,” Bond sighs. “Everything was too...neat; how I just _happened_ to be given a mission where I would spot an adversary that looks exactly like your childhood enemy, and how I just _happened_ to find an old relic that you are familiar with and bring it back to you.”

“Exactly,” Q nods. “To answer your earlier question, our mission, as I sold it to M, is to track down the man you described to me and figure out what role he plays in this up-and-coming mysterious organization that the intelligence community is worried about.”

“I just can’t believe M agreed to have you come along with me,” Bond says with a small smirk, and Q huffs a laugh.

“I’m pretty sure by that point he would have agreed to anything, if it would get me out of his office.”

Bond flashes a quick, breathtaking smile, before it fades away as a thought comes to him. “Honestly, I believe the biggest, and most troubling problem we have at the moment is…”

“...is that someone outside of MI6 knows my identity,” Q says, jaw clenched. “Bond, not even _my sisters_ know exactly what it is that I do. You know me, you know how careful I am.”

“I do,” Bond agrees. “Which brings us to one conclusion.”

“We have another security breach,” Q says with a sigh, taking off his glasses to rub his face tiredly. “I’m sick of those.”

“Mm,” Bond hums in agreement. “Whoever it is, they’re obviously targeting you.”

“And doing a damn fine job of it,” Q mutters angrily, putting his glasses back on.

“Can you think of anyone from your past that would want to hurt you?”

“No,” Q sighs. “Outside of my family, everyone is either dead or long gone. Honestly, I’d be fairly surprised if anyone from back then even knew we survived.”

Bond turns sharply to look at Q, but Q resolutely looks away. He’d only briefly summarized his time on The Island, and had only mentioned that he and his siblings had built a boat and sailed away to the mainland. There was no need to talk about what had happened between leaving The Island and finally washing ashore.

Thankfully, Bond doesn’t press him any further. “Well then, I think the most pressing matter that we have to deal with is the safety of your family.”

Q sits up with a start, his blood suddenly running cold. “You don’t think…?”

“If someone went to the trouble to hack MI6 to track you down, what’s to say they won’t go after your sisters?” Bond says lowly. “If it’s someone with a grudge against you for some reason, then it’s not _just_ you that they’d be after. Everything that you went through, you went through alongside them, as well.”

_Fuck_. He’s right. Q puts his head in his hands miserably. “So what do we do?”

“We talk to your sisters,” Bond says. “We go to them, warn them of any danger that might occur, see if anything suspicious has happened around them, and go from there. And besides…”

Bond trails off, and Q looks up at him with faint surprise. It’s rare for Bond to be so hesitant, but he waits. Finally, Bond continues, “...I think it might be good for you. To see your sisters, and to make sure they’re safe.”

It’s amazing, how quickly Bond got to the root of Q’s anxiety. It’s one thing to monitor his sisters through CCTV and hacked security footage. It’s another thing entirely to see them in person, to hold them in his arms. Too many times in the past, he’s come far too close to losing them. Q won’t let that happen, never again.

“Then it’s settled,” Q says with a nod of gratitude towards Bond. “Violet and her family are in Montreal, and Sunny is in New York.”

“Good. We’ll head for Canada first, then America; that will give me time to contact any friends I have in the American intelligence community for information regarding any new organizations they may know about.”

With a heavy sigh, Q sinks back into the couch cushions. But, he feels better, somehow. He’s not the same, helpless child from Before. He has resources now, and finances, and _people_. He has…

“Thank you, Bond,” Q says quietly, and Bond gives him a small smile.

“Welcome. And, it’s James, by the way.”

Q blinks in surprise. “What, really?”

Bond nods. “I figure you’ve shared enough about yourself this evening that you’ve at least earned the right to call me by my first name.”

_Oh._ Q flushes slightly and looks down with a small, shy smile. Well, in that case…

“I just realized I still haven’t told you my name,” Q says with a sheepish grin, and James snorts.

“You don’t have to, you know.”

“I know. But I _want_ to,” Q says, and with a sly smirk he sticks out his hand. James can’t help but chuckle as he takes Q’s hand, his strong, warm grip sending shivers down Q’s spine. “My name is Klaus Baudelaire.”

“It’s good to know you, Klaus,” James says warmly, and Klaus smiles back.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1/2/19 UPDATE: I finished binging ASOUE s3 last night, it was magnificent. I’ll be going back through the three chapters posted and making minor corrections and rewrites now that I know what actually goes down, and hopefully posting chapter 4 soon. Thank you so much for the support!

“This...is a very impressive house,” James says, once the car turns a corner and Violet’s mansion comes into view.

Klaus laughs quietly. “Violet and Quigley work out of the mansion as well, so they need the space.”

The Quagmire-Baudelaire home is about the same size of their childhood mansion, but completely different architecture. Violet and Quigley had had it constructed from the ground up; it’s only two floors, but it sprawls across almost an entire half-acre of land.

They pull up to the front of the house, and James kills the engine. Klaus sighs and runs his hand through his hair. “I wish I were here for a social visit.”

“I know,” James murmurs. “But your sister needs to know.”

“I just...it was so hard, to put all of _that_ behind us, and to move on,” Klaus says, looking over at James with shadowed eyes. “But we did, and now...she’s _happy_. She has a family, and a career, and...I’m about to go inside and bring it crumbling down, just like before.”

“ _No_ , Klaus. You’re here because you want to protect your family,” James says lowly, and Klaus clenches his jaw. He doesn’t respond, merely choosing to step out of the car and grab his bag. He hears James sigh quietly, but he drops it and follows Klaus to the door.

“Mm, correct me if I’m wrong, Klaus,” James says dryly as they approach the door. “But I believe doors usually come with doorknobs, no?”

Klaus snorts. “Remember I mentioned my paranoia? It’s hereditary.”

Violet and Quigley’s front ‘door’ is actually just a thick slab of steel, with no visible way to open it. As Klaus had been the one to design and install it at their request, along with the rest of their security measures, its design had been completely intentional.

Klaus places his right hand on the wall next to the door, and waits for a minute before he hears a small ‘beep’. The security system comes to life, scanning his palm for a biometric reading, and confirming his identity.

 _Klaus Baudelaire, access approved._ The security system chirps, before they hear a small ‘click’, and the door swings open.

“I honestly don’t think even MI6 has this type of security,” James mutters, and Klaus huffs a small laugh.

“They do, it’s just less obvious,” Klaus replies as they walk into the house. “Both systems use the same baseline of design, considering I invented it. Every person that walks into the MI6 building, no matter from which entrance, gets scanned head to toe by lasers invisible to the naked eye. If anyone that is not authorized steps foot into the building, all personnel receive a notification, along with a picture of the individual, and all Double-0’s and field agents on premises receive orders to capture or kill. All within thirty seconds.”

“I forget how scary you can be,” James says with a sideways smile at Klaus, and he can’t help but smile back, a warm feeling settling within him.

A slight cough has the two men turning their attentions away from each other, and to the source of the noise. Violet stands in a doorway, leaning against the frame with a hand on her hip and a smile on her lips.

And just like that, Klaus can feel the tension in his shoulders melt away at the sight of his sister.

“Surprise,” Klaus says dryly, dropping his bag on the floor. “Thought I’d pop in for a visit.”

He crosses the floor and pulls Violet into a hug, melting into her embrace as she circles her arms around his back.

“It’s a nice surprise,” Violet replies, her voice muffled as she has her face buried in his neck. They pull back from each other, and Violet casts an eye on him, leaning her hand on his cheek.

“You look tired,” she murmurs. “And like you haven’t been eating well.”

“You sound like Sunny,” Klaus snorts. “I’ve been eating just fine, and we just got off a plane, so still slightly jetlagged.”

“Mm,” she hums, before flickering her eyes behind Klaus to where James stands waiting patiently, and back to Klaus.

“You gonna introduce me to your... _friend_?” she asks, tilting her head slightly. Klaus narrows his eyes at the gleam of amusement in her eyes. With a slight roll of his eyes and a warning look to his sister, Klaus turns and tugs Violet over to where James stands.

“Vi, meet James; James, this is Violet,” Klaus says with a sweep of his hand between the two. Violet smiles before offering James her hand.

“Violet Baudelaire, It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she says warmly, and James gives her his most charming smile.

“James Bond, and likewise,” he says smoothly, pressing a quick kiss to the back of her hand, as Klaus gives him the biggest eye roll he can possibly muster behind Vi’s back. Violet giggles and throws a grin over her shoulder at Klaus.

“I like him,” she says, and Bond shoots a triumphant smile at Klaus.

“Of course you do,” Klaus sighs, but he still can’t help but smile back at the both of them. “Where’s Quigley? And the children?”

“Touring a museum,” Violet replies, leading Klaus and James deeper into the house. “They should be back later, and they’ll be happy to see you.” They take their time, walking slowly through the house so that the guys can look at the family photos on the walls and shelves.

“They’re getting big now,” Klaus comments with a soft smile at a recent picture of Violet’s twins, Bella and Ben. The four year olds are energetic and brilliant, as they take after their parents.

“Yeah,” Violet sighs happily. “I’ve got so much work to be done here, and Quigley offered to take them out for a bit to let me concentrate, thankfully.”

“And Beatrice?” Klaus asks, as they stop in the doorway of the kitchen. Violet merely nods at the kitchen island, and Klaus spots Beatrice sitting at the island, with her back to them and headphones in her ears.

Klaus flashes a quick grin at Violet and James before strolling over to pop one of Beatrice’s earbuds out. She jumps in surprise, looking over at him with wide eyes before she realizes who exactly she’s looking at.

“Klaus!” she says happily, throwing her arms around his neck.

Klaus closes his eyes and buries his face in her hair. “Hello, my little Bee.”

While the Baudelaires had not been able to spend too much time with Kit Snicket, Klaus thinks that Beatrice must get a fair amount of her traits from her, and from Jacques as well. She’s inherited Kit’s intellect, compassion, and curiosity, and Jacques’ bravery, stubbornness, and quick thinking.

“What’re you doing here?” Beatrice asks with wide eyes.

“Just visiting, brought along a friend, too,” Klaus says with a nod towards James. Beatrice blinks in surprise before looking over at James, who smiles and waves at her. Beatrice smiles shyly and waves back at him. “What have you been up to?”

“Astronomy,” Beatrice says excitedly, sweeping her hand over the strewn papers all over the kitchen island. Klaus realizes that he’s looking at multiple constellation maps, some printed and some drawn by hand.

“Did you do these?” Klaus breathes in amazement, as James approaches to peer over his shoulder with interest.

“Just some of them,” Beatrice says, pointing to a couple of the maps. “The rest I just used as reference. Do you like ‘em?”

“They’re _brilliant_ , Bee,” Klaus says proudly, giving her a big grin. Beatrice flushes happily and gives him another quick hug.

“We’ll let you get back to it, my dear,” Violet says gently to Beatrice. “I’ve still got to show them their rooms and let them settle in before Quigley and the twins return.”

“Okay,” Beatrice says agreeably. “Do you want to stargaze with me later tonight?”

“I’d love to,” Klaus says with a gentle smile. He swallows around a sudden lump in his throat as he looks down into Beatrice’s bright and happy eyes. Klaus prays that… _whatever_ this new and anonymous threat that he has to deal with is, that it stays as far away from Beatrice as humanly possible.

“And you too, James?” Beatrice asks suddenly, turning to James. Klaus almost laughs at the sudden surprise in his eyes, before James smiles down at her.

“I’d be honored to, Beatrice.” he says, and Beatrice grins.

They leave Beatrice in the kitchen, and continue on towards the bedrooms section of the house. The deeper they go into the house, the tighter Klaus feels himself clench his jaw. Seeing Violet and Beatrice, he’d momentarily forgotten _why_ he was even there in the first place; he was just happy to be reunited with his family. But now, with every step he takes, the spyglass in his pocket seems to weigh him down further and further.

Next to him, James shoots him a sympathetic glance and gently brushes his shoulder against Klaus’ shoulder. It’s a welcome reminder that come what may, Klaus isn’t alone in this.

“Here you go,” Violet says as they finally get to the guest suite that Klaus usually uses when he stays with them.  “James, yours is the one right across the hall.”

“I appreciate it, Violet,” James says to her, quickly opening the door to leave his luggage by the entryway, and then rejoining them in Klaus’s suite. He shuts the door behind him and leans against it, as Klaus sits down heavily on his bed with a sigh. Violet sits in a nearby armchair and levels a look at Klaus.

“So, are you going to tell me why you’re really here?” she asks with a raised brow, and Klaus sighs softly.

“How did you know?”

“You never just drop by unannounced, considering we live on two different continents,” Violet says with a shrug. “And I can always tell when something is bothering you. So, what’s wrong?”

Klaus exchanges one last look with James before he slowly reaches into his pocket and pulls out the spyglass to show to Violet. Once she realizes what it is that she’s looking at, her eyes go wide and her breath catches in her throat.

“Where did you get that?”

“I...came across it through the course of my employment,” Klaus says haltingly. “I believe I was meant to get it, as a message.”

“A message? From who?”

“I, uh, am not able to get into too much detail, but I believe there is a connection between this...and Count Olaf,” Klaus says, and he watches as Violet’s jaw clenches.

“He’s dead, Klaus,” she says flatly. “That’s impossible. I-it...it can’t possibly hold any meaning, anymore! You _must_ be reading into it too much.”

Klaus frowns, and looks closely at Violet. He sees the anger and panic in her eyes, which is understandable, but...she’s not surprised.

“What are you not telling me, Violet?” Klaus asks her slowly, and Violet averts her gaze from him. That confirms it; she’s hiding something from him.

“Violet,” Klaus says, getting up to get down on one knee in front of her. “If you know something, please tell me.”

Violet swallows heavily, and Klaus watches as a couple of tears run down her cheeks. “I...didn’t think it _meant_ anything. I didn’t _want_ it to mean anything.”

“What? What is it?”

“I...It’s better if I just show you,” she says before getting up from the chair and gesturing at Klaus and James to follow her.

Violet ends up taking them to her’s and Quigley’s bedroom, and into her walk-in closet. She goes straight to the back wall, where she has…a wall safe. Violet enters the combination quickly and opens the safe to pull something small out, wrapped in a handkerchief.

“I got this a few weeks ago,” she says lowly, staring down at the thing in her hands with dark eyes. “There was no note, no message or anything. Just...this.”

Slowly, Klaus reaches out to take the object from her to unwrap it. When he sees what it is that he is holding, his stomach drops to the floor and he sucks in a sharp breath.

“What...is that?” James asks as he peers over Klaus’s shoulder. Klaus is lucky that James is standing so close to him at the moment; Klaus ends up leaning against James for support.

“It’s a _fucking_ sugar bowl.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for all of the kind words! it's a weird crossover in general, so i'm glad that i'm not the only person on earth that would enjoy it!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so super sorry for the delay!! i ended up having to rewrite this chapter three times before i found something i was happy with! thank you for the support!

Klaus’ phone chimes with a text at just past 3 am.

_Still up?_

Klaus snorts quietly and texts back.

_Yeah._

He doesn’t receive a response back, but a few minutes later the bedroom door opens quietly and James slips in.

This is the first time that Klaus has seen James in sleeping attire, and honestly it’s not what he had imagined. It turns out, 007 sleeps in black sweatpants and a t shirt.

“You know, I would have thought that you sleep either in silk pyjamas that cost more than my yearly salary, or in the nude.”

“Why Q, was that an invitation to get naked?” James says with a wicked grin.

“Oh, shut up,” Klaus huffs, even as the tips of his ears burn red.

James makes his way to Klaus’s bed to sit next to him, where Klaus sits cross legged with his equipment around him. He has three laptops open and surrounding him. One is scanning the sugar bowl meticulously, looking for any sort of evidence they can use. One has MI6’s search program up and running, cross-referencing criminal and syndicate activity with every single VFD reference that Klaus, Violet, and Quigley had been able to think of. The last one is on his personal laptop, and just shows real time security footage of Sunny’s apartment building in New York, and the surrounding area.

James doesn’t say anything for a while, just sits there and watches Klaus work. Klaus, for his part, turns his attention back to the screens once he figures out that James isn’t going to say anything.

Klaus is exhausted; his eyes feel heavy and burn, and his body wants to sink back into the pillows and covers beneath him. But when he’d tried to go to sleep earlier, he couldn’t.

“Everytime I close my eyes, all I can see is my family,” Klaus says quietly, eventually. “Everyone going up in flames.”

He dreams about the Hotel Denouement, sometimes. The smell of acrid smoke, thick and heavy in the air. The sight of the bright flames traveling higher and higher in the distance, not knowing who made it out alive, or _if_ anyone had made it out.

“You’ll drive yourself mad like that, Klaus.”

Klaus laughs shortly, humorlessly. “I’m already mad.”

James gives him a look like he’s being an idiot. “We all are, of course. Have to be to do this job. I _meant_ , you’re going to make yourself miserable and irate. Sort of like when your minions accidentally throw out your tea in the mornings.”

“I don’t know how to make it any more bloody obvious to them how to differentiate between _my_ mugs and everyone else’s,” Klaus mutters distractedly, his attention pulled back to one of the screens. “I need to start labeling them, honestly.”

He immerses himself back into his screens, staring at the information flying by as if he can pull the culprit’s name out of it all by magic or divine intervention.

Suddenly, a warm, calloused hand slides over his own, and Klaus stops breathing.

“You need to rest, Klaus,” James says lowly. Klaus looks over at him with wide eyes. “You are of no use to your family if you’re out of your mind with exhaustion.”

Klaus can feel a flush rising on his cheeks, as he meets James’ sharp, blue eyes. God, he could spend an eternity looking into his eyes, memorizing every detail.

“But, I—,” Klaus tries to make a last ditch attempt at disagreeing but James cuts him off.

“I’ll keep an eye on things, just get some sleep.”

Klaus assumes that James plans on grabbing the laptops and relocating to the armchair and table in the corner of the room, but no. He just slides everything over to his side of the bed, and that’s when Klaus realizes that James bloody Bond plans to stay in Klaus’ bed.

This, em, wasn’t exactly how Klaus had ever envisioned it happening, if he’s being honest.

Klaus just blinks stupidly at James for a moment, before shrugging and sliding down onto the bed, the weariness hitting him like a punch to the head.

“If you damage my equipment, I’ll ruin your life,” Klaus mutters, burying his face into his pillow.

“I’ll always take exquisite care of your _equipment_ ,” James says, the innuendo clear in his voice, and Klaus huffs an amused laugh.

They fall quiet, James’ warm presence beside him and the quiet hum of his computers lulling Klaus to slumber in a way he couldn’t previously do.

“Thank you, James,” Klaus breathes out as he falls asleep. He doesn’t feel the gentle caress of James’ hand through his hair, as James says quietly, “You’re welcome, Klaus.”  
  


* * *

  
“Can we keep him?” asks Quigley to Klaus the next morning, as the two watch James amusedly and expertly keep the attention of Ben and Bella, giving temporary respite to their tired parents.

“No, sorry,” Klaus says with a smirk. “As much as I’d love to adopt him out some days, honestly.”

Quigley presses a hot mug of tea into Klaus’ hands, and Klaus smiles gratefully at his brother-in-law .

He’d slept deeply, if not as long as he would have liked, what with two toddlers rising early to wreak havoc through the house. Beatrice had been dispatched to school, with a promise from Klaus that they would spend time together one on one before he left for New York.

They suddenly hear animated talking headed their way, and Violet enters the kitchen, on her phone Face-timing with their youngest sibling.

“—and these pretentious idiots can get away with calling it a ‘work of art’ by covering it in edible gold and caviar, the assholes!”

“Language, Sunny,” Violet says with a roll of her eyes, her scold going unnoticed in the middle of Sunny’s passionate rant about the culinary industry.

“Some people have no shame,” Klaus deadpans, plucking the phone from Violet’s hand and grinning at his baby sister.

“At least you understand,” Sunny huffs, even as she gives Klaus a bright smile. “And where have you been? It’s been forever since we’ve talked.”

“Agreed,” Klaus says brightly. “Which is why I’ll be popping up on your doorstep in a few days.”

“You’re coming here?” Sunny asks delightedly. “To New York?”

“Yes.”

Sunny smiles brightly, before something seems to click in her mind and she narrows her eyes at her older brother.

“What’s going on? You’re not the type of person to just show up out of the blue like that.”

“I can’t just visit my baby sister whenever I want?”

“You’re not known for spontaneity, Klaus,” Sunny says with a roll of her eyes, and James laughs.

Klaus sighs. “I don’t want to disclose anything through phone. I promise I’ll tell you everything in person, yeah?”

Sunny looks at him suspiciously for a moment, before she sighs. “Alright, fine.”

“Thank you.”

Sunny doesn’t say anything else for a moment, before she suddenly lets out a high, questioning ‘ _Kreeeee?_ ’. Klaus’ ears go red, and Violet laughs loudly, Quigley rolling his eyes and James looking over at them with interest.

As Sunny had gotten older, she had realized that her siblings were perfectly fluent in Sunny’s own, made up, baby gibberish from before she had learned how to speak. So, she had ended up creating essentially the Baudelaire siblings’ own private language.

 _So, who’s your new boyfriend?_ Sunny had just asked, much to Klaus’ mortification.

“Oh, look at the time,” Klaus says loudly, dramatically checking his watch. “I have to go! Sunny, love, it was good to see you. I’ll let you know when to expect us.”

“You’re such a killjoy,” Sunny mutters with an eye roll, but gives her brother a smile nonetheless. “I’ll get your room ready, love you, bye~.”

“You Baudelaires are an odd bunch,” James says mildly, smiling down at Bella as she babbles nonsense at him. Quigley snorts and nods in agreement, and Klaus just hides behind his tea.  
  


* * *

  
The next 48 hours are a bit of a blur for Klaus, as he and James follow any information and leads they can find.

On the surface, the sugar bowl doesn’t have much significance. It is from a china set of unknown origins. There is nothing extraordinary about it; all of Klaus’ scans had come up empty, to his incredible frustration.

They have better luck through the MI6 database cross referencing; slowly but surely, he and James are able to establish a pattern of subtle criminal activity around the world, all centered around one, legal, organization.

“I feel like an idiot,” Klaus moans when he discovers the company’s name. “Vector Facilities Development, Inc.”

“At least they’re based out of Manhattan,” James muses. “I can pay their offices a visit, see what I can find.”

Klaus shrugs. “I’d imagine that the person running this whole show wouldn’t keep anything incriminating in their offices, but it can’t hurt, I suppose.”

He pulls up the listed CEO’s information, and it becomes more and more painfully obvious that he is just a puppet.

“78 years old, hard of hearing, and here he is limping around and running a company,” Klaus says in disbelief, skimming through various personnel and medical records that he’d hacked. “The man honestly looks like a corpse.”

James hums in agreement. “Someone is controlling him. We just have to figure out who.”

“He may not even be aware of all of the illegal activity that his company is involved in,” Klaus says with a frown.

“Or he is completely aware and complicit in all of it,” James reminds him. “Can’t assume anything.”

In the midst of all of this, Klaus also tries to stuff as much time with his family in as is humanly possible.

He spends hours in Violet’s lab alongside her, working with her on whatever project she has going on at the moment. Or he’s with Quigley, chasing after giggling and rambunctious twins. Or he’s with Beatrice, poring over her star charts and mapping out the heavens above them.

He spends his last night at the Baudelaire-Quagmire estate with Beatrice, taking turns looking through her telescope at the brilliant night sky.

“Klaus?”

“Mm?”

Beatrice hesitates a moment. “Do you have to go?”

Klaus blinks and looks over at her. She is very carefully not looking at him, but he knows the stiffness in her shoulders, has known it through her whole life.

“Yes, Bee, I’m sorry. As much as I’ve loved spending time here, this also doubled as a work trip, of sorts. And it’s time for James and I to move on.”

Beatrice sighs and finally looks back at him. “I miss you,” she says, in such a small voice that it cuts Klaus’ heart in two.

He loves Beatrice to death; he’d helped raise her in Kit’s stead alongside Violet and Sunny, after all. The hardest decision he’d ever had to make was to leave her side to move to England.

“I miss you too, and I’m sorry that we don’t get to spend time together like this more often,” Klaus says, looping his arm over her shoulders and pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I can talk to Violet and see if we can arrange for you to spend your summer holidays with me, if you’d like?”

Beatrice brightens. “Yeah!”

Klaus smiles at her, glad that he’ll have that to look forward to, once he and James wrap up the ugly mess that they and the other Baudelaires seem to have been roped into.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for all of the love and support, it means the world! drop a comment, let me know what you think so far!
> 
> if you would like to yell at me for not updating faster, here you go:
> 
>  
> 
> [argenttmccall.tumblr.com](https://argenttmccall.tumblr.com)


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